Leave Them Laughing
by Periboea
Summary: Things alter for the worse spontaneously, if they be not altered for the better designedly. A spotlight for my favorite mutant, Guido Carosella.  His life with Lila Cheney, X Factor, and  friendship with Jamie Madrox. With letters and journal entries.
1. Chapter 1

_They never knew what I was gonna say;  
Punch me and kick me and run away-  
You know who you are so  
Now look at me what do you have to say?_

_-Jonathan Davis-_

_------------------------------------------------------_

_Tuesday, September 6, 1967_

_Mom and Dad don't know I'm keeping this. Diaries are supposed to be private, so I've got a pretty good hiding place for it. I keep it one of the loose panels of my closet. Dad would be worried about me if he found out I was writing in a journal. He says I need to grow up. I'm only 15! How grown up am I supposed to be?_

_My grades are getting worse, but if I don't stop showing off those kids are going to beat me again. Last week I came home with broken glasses. My parents weren't happy. Mom scolded me on picking a fight, but when I tried to explain that I didn't pick it, Dad jumped in and tried to lecture me on how men don't fight. I guess maybe he meant I should stop whatever was irritating them. Ruining the grade curve is what it is, so I guess I need to __**act**__ stupid. _

_Well, it's getting late and if I don't shut off the lights and get to bed I'm going to get it. I hope Charlie's in a better mood tomorrow._

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**Wednesday, September 7th**_

"Hey Carosella! Nice pants!"

Guido looked down at his trousers. He donned a pair of gray-green shorts, sort of puffy, and cuffed at the bottom. What was really being pointed out was the huge stain he'd acquired at lunch. A couple of wise guys had decided it was funny to put a glob of chocolate pudding in his assigned seat. Not so used to inspecting his seat before taking it, Guido had sat down and-SMOOSH-the end result was a large, brown stain, suggestively located in the seat of his pants.

"Aww, shaddup, Michael!" Guido called, covering his backside with his books. The taller, older boy gave his two cronies a snide expression. A gleam of cruelty flashed in his brown eyes.

"Hey, Carosella! Is it true what my dad said about Italians?"

Guido observed him with an antipathic silence for a moment. Not really waiting for a reply, Michael continued, nudging the meatier of his two friends in the ribs.

"My pop says you Italians are inbred. So, were your Mommy and Daddy brother and sister _**before**_ they were married?"  
A familiar and surging energy ran up into Guido's chest. Fury. He pounced forward, allowing his books to fall to the way side, and tried desperately to land a punch. Michael was faster though and he stepped aside then grabbed a handful of Guido's shirt. He was hauled off the ground like a bag of potatoes and then was dropped flat on his back. It felt like a cannonball had been fired on Guido's chest and all the air in him left. Coughing and sputtering he clawed at the air a moment as if it would provide leverage. Michael and his friends laughed and took to a round of kicking him in the ribs.

"Let's see if he finished his homework."

"Yeah, I could use a study guide."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Wednesday, September 7, 1967_

_We just got home from Doctor Cecile's office. She says my ribs are fine, but __I bruised __ Michael bruised the big muscle in my back. I got another lecture too, over why I should just walk away instead of "irritating the situation". I even told Dad about the inbred thing, but he just said that I shouldn't let things like that bother me—but I'm not inbred!_

_Charlie did talk to me some more at lunch. He's always real sad about something but I don't know what. He's the only kid at school that really talks to me: And not just for homework answers. He even played tetherball with me at recess!_

_Now, though, there's this girl. She keeps winking at me in the halls. Sheila McCann's the most popular girl in school! Wow! Do I ever feel special. I think maybe she's even prettier than June Cleaver!_

_Oh man, there's Dad to check on me!_

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Thursday, September 8, 1967**

Guido sat in the Guidance Counselor's office with his feet in the chair and knees against his chest. The slight boy was perfectly compact in his seat across from the desk. His counselor was tall, full figured, and blonde. Large, round glasses took up most of her face, but she was gorgeous. She often wore suits, skirts, and very high heels. Guido had fantasized about her a number of times, but he'd never outwardly made any gestures of affection toward her.

He found it hard to talk to girls. Being skinny—only about 100 lbs—and having glasses (huge glasses) made him bully target numero uno. His ash blonde hair was always combed back except for a stray bit that never seemed to stay down, no matter how much moose or styling goop he applied. The clothing his mother had chosen didn't lend much to his cause, either. Everything about him was nerdy, and he was a self proclaimed geek.

However, he figured that overcompensating with mischievous antics would somehow make his classmates like him more. Once he'd slapped a sign on his teacher's back that read, "Spank me, _hard_!" That one had gotten him a good three weeks grounding and nearly half a year of detention.

"Guido . . ." the counselor sighed. She swiveled in her chair and looked straight at him, her blue eyes meeting his own. "We have to talkabout this."

"_**Why**_?" He asked dryly. "It's gunna be like every _other _time we've talked about it. _** I**_ get in trouble and _**they**_ get away . . ."

"Now, that isn't true. The last time you got beat up we had a conference with the boy's parents."

"So? He still spits at me in class and calls me names at lunch."

"Spitballs and names are better than bruises and scrapes, aren't they?"

He didn't see how. As far as he was concerned, they were just as bad in a different way. The bullies just didn't know when to quit. Sitting around in the counselor's office was just a waste of time.

"Well, we've given Michael detention for the week."

Guido shrugged in a languid manner. "Whassit matter? He's in detention every day anyways."

"Well . . ." she said in a defeated manner, "what do you suggest we do?"

What Guido wanted to say was somewhere between revenge and human nature. Michael needed a good thrashing by someone bigger than him. Show him how it felt, having the wind knocked out of you. Being teased and tormented day after day, getting stains on your clothes. Only, Guido wanted to break something else of Michael's, because _**he**_ didn't have glasses.

"Guido . . . I know you feel like nobody likes you, but I do. I think you're a great kid, but I also think you're confused. You don't have to pretend to be something in order to get people to like you. C'mon now . . . give me a smile."

He flashed a satirical grin and rose, "Can I leave now?"

The counselor sighed restlessly and tapped her pen impatiently on her notebook. "Yes."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Thursday, September 8, 1967_

_Mom came in on me. It was really scary to be caught like that, but I couldn't quit thinking about Sheila._

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Friday, September 9, 1967**

"Hey Guido, you wanna see who can get to the other side of the playground first?" Charlie Ronalds smiled a bit at Guido. It was a hardened expression that, at first, seemed a bit forced.

"Sure." Guido answered and the two got up from the swings and walked to the edge of the pea gravel.

"Ready?" Charlie asked, bending over in a sprinter's pose. Guido imitated his posture awkwardly but with a determined manner.

"Ready."

"Okay. . . _**GO**_!"

The two took off across the green crabgrass, almost at the same time. Legs pumping they fell into a synch, rushing 'cross at a speed that seemed to others fast. To them, however, time seemed to stand still. A momentary lapse that slowed to a crawl while the ground floated by underfoot. The reprieve ended with the fence of the baseball field.

Guido grabbed onto the chain link as though it were a life anchor. Charlie, only a second behind, collapsed happily against it and breathed in deep lung-fulls of the dying summer wind. He laid his head back and laughed a little. It too sounded if nothing else, a bit artificial.

"Wow . . . y-you're fast."

"Th . . . Thanks, I . . ." Guido stopped as he looked up, over the fence. A recreational baseball game was going, bases loaded. In the bleachers, among a lotus of friends, Sheila was looking over at him. Her big, round eyes unblinking, then a thin smile bent her rosy lips upward and she winked. Guido felt his face burn hot and he turned away, crumpling to the ground with his back against the chain link.

"What was that all about?" Charlie asked.

"Nothin' . . . just . . . aw, nothin'."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Saturday, September 10, 1967**

"I don't want any complaining from you." Dad waggled one thick finger in Guido's face. Mr. Carosella's hairy wrists were being squeezed by the suit he'd managed to fit into. He'd done a lousy job of combing his thin, white hair over the tremendous bald spot that had dominated his head.

"But Dad," Guido whined, "this jacket's too big for me."

"Whaddid I just say? Whaddaya, stupid or something?" Mr. Carosella asked incredulously. The Misses, in compliance, scoffed:

"Lookin' at his test scores you'd think he's retarded. I can see why those kids thought he was inbred."

On the way to the theater, Guido said nothing. He curled up with his face to the window and tried not to let Dad see him crying.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Monday, September 12, 1967**

The day seemed as though it would never end. Dragging out into long, drab hours. They seemed to slip past at a snail's pace, falling into the silence of studying and whispered conversation. Finally, though, the bell rang at three and the school turned into a zoo.

Guido put the books he didn't need in his locker and pulled out the ones that needed to be looked over. It was time to bring those suffering scores back up. Since there was a test coming up in a day or so, Guido was planning on inviting Charlie over for some studying and other stuff. Dinner was probably out of the question. Mr. and Mrs. Carosella had a habit of pushing new people out of the picture.

Outside, Guido was happy to feel the sun on his face. The classrooms were kept so drab that it was almost like being in a prison cell. The walls were painted slate gray, even the floors were an ugly slug green. The lawns were just fine though, even if the grass was a bit prickly.

Kids were running in every direction. Whether _**they**_ knew where they were going or not was up to them. It was not an uncommon occurrence for several students to miss their bus home. Some even pretended to get on board in the morning, and when their parents went to work it was time to goof off. Guido couldn't do this. For one thing, he walked to school, and for another his mother was a "homemaker". This meant, as far as Guido was concerned, that she stayed home gossiping with friends and playing black jack.

Just as he began onto the side lawn where the busses were parked and waiting for their passengers, Guido caught sight of a skinny, blonde figure walking past. Her usual crowd was no where to be seen, but Sheila was there, getting ready to board her bus. She stopped slowly as Guido froze squarely in his steps, beads of sweat forming on his brow. What to say? So many things would be appropriate. Then, so many things would be inappropriate.

When he looked up, unsure of exactly what to say, Sheila was gazing fully at him with a luscious smile, white teeth pressed beautifully between full, glossy lips. For a moment he wondered what they would taste like, he wondered what she would think of him. Would her parents hate him too?

"????????"

Guido had no idea what slurry of words had just slipped out of his mouth, but it landed him a fist to the jaw. All his lights popped off at once, like someone flipped a switch. When Guido came too again, he realized he hadn't been out long. The busses were still idling at the curb, but now Sheila and her entourage of friends were gathered about. Mixed with them were her boyfriend and his goons. They were all laughing, hard. Even Sheila. After a round of laughter, the boys separated from the girls and began a horribly grotesque game of kickball.

The passing of one moment to the next was marked only by pain and frustration. Hard legs kicked out and found ribs, kidneys and other spots to land in. Guido tried to stand, but any number of the kids would knock him back down. His lip cracked on the inside, on tooth came rolling across the crab grass, and he saw his world shatter in a flurry of broken glass. Everything went skewed to one side or another and blurred together again. He could no longer see which shapes were who, but it didn't matter. Guido squeezed his eyes tight and tried to keep the tears from coming but they found their way out.

"That'll teach ya t'mess with my girl." One of the figures barked. "What kinda coward just lays there and takes it?"

An eruption of laughter filled Guido's hazy brain. The high tinkle of Sheila's giggle sent him over the edge. Something inside reared its head. A cup within overflowed and spilled into him. Guido rose slowly and struggled to do so, his entire body feeling as though it had the consistency of lead. Soon, though, a pain unlike any other tore down his right arm, from his neck to his fingertips and spread across his chest.

"What the—!" Someone exclaimed, but whatever they had prepared to say was never finished. Guido's anguished, throat torn cry filled the lawn and everyone in the vicinity went silent as the scene unfolded.

Guido's arm was swelling. Perhaps a little inflammation was normal, but the limb was now at least twice as long as Guido and perhaps three times as thick.

Completely blinded, Guido stumbled backward, all the while dragging the deformed limb at his side. It was no longer his, in his mind, now it was something new and foreign: _**Except, it was his.**_

_**B-KOOMF! **_

"Aw man! Lookit **that**! Guido just got hit by a bus! And . . ._**look **_at him!"

"Arrrghhhhh!!"

Massive amounts of energy flowed from Guido in tendrils of light and vapor. His chest had more than doubled in size and was continuing to swell. The effect proved the same for his arms, some but not much of the energy went flowing into his legs. It distended every part of him, filling the void and putting mass in places Guido had no idea were even there. But all of this was far from his mind.

He could think of nothing but the pain. It coursed through every inch of his embellished anatomy and blinded him. He stayed blind until much later.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Wednesday, September 14, 1967**

"There is a possibility, Mrs. Carosella, that your son is a mutant."

"One of _**those **_freaks? No, no, no! That is _**im**_possible! Everyone in our family is normal!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_**Author's Note:**__**Hope you liked it! In the next Chapter, Guido builds a relationship with Mary Bradley and learns what happened to Charlie. Thanks for reading! Guido certainly deserves the time.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up._

-James A. Baldwin-

_It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend._

-William Blake-

------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Saturday, September 25, 1967_

_ I've been in the hospital for two weeks now and the doctors still can't figure out what's wrong. Some people are calling me a "Gene Joke". I'm not sure what they're talking about, but Mom and Dad don't want to visit anymore. Charlie's in a different ward than me. The doctor won't let me go to visit him. He says that Charlie doesn't want to see me. Besides that, they're afraid my legs won't support me. I guess I did something pretty bad. I want to apologize, but no one will let me. _

_ On Monday, I start my tutoring with Mr. Kelly. I think he's a friend of my parents, but I can't remember. They've got me on so many pain relievers I can't see straight. I just want to know what's wrong with me._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**_Sunday, September 26, 1967_**

"Hello Guido!"

The young boy was stirred in the late afternoon by a sweet, familiar voice. A tall, slender woman with chestnut brown hair and wearing a tan sweater came in through the doorway. Following close behind was a man a few years older than she. He supported himself on twin crutches, but walked very well in spite of his disability. Guido knew the warm couple as Aunt Lois and Uncle Lou. They were his God Parents by will. He was surprised to find his aunt's arms around his neck, seemingly unperturbed by his recent malformation.

"Aunt Lo!" Guido was very careful to touch her gently. He'd broken one of the RN's wrists the first night he'd been in the hospital and would have rather not had to deal with a reenactment.

"Oh, Guido, you're looking very well." Lois said warmly, then shot a smile to her husband who nodded.

"I know I wouldn't be looking so good after being hit by a bus." Uncle Lou gave his nephew a short little grin that bent his pencil mustache upward.

"Aunt Lo, Uncle Lou . . . what're you doin' here?"

"You thought you could keep us away?" Lois asked kindly. The three exchanged updates in the family as well as the news on Guido's condition. It was just more and more of the same. No one knew what was going on but they knew **_something_** was definitely wrong. Most kids, when they get hit by a vehicle, go splat; Guido swelled up. However, it wasn't scar tissue, fat, or displaced bone. Everything that had grown in was pure muscle; and it worked too. As could be assured by the RN's busted arm.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

**_Monday, September 28, 1967_**

The morning sun came pouring in jagged lines from the blinded windows. The warm light washed the colorful walls of Guido's room, playing across the window of the door and the shiny, brass doorknob. He was stirred by a nurse who laid breakfast out for him on a silver cart. There were all sorts of things on the platter, all looking quite appetizing. Guido had noticed that his appetite had grown with him. The doctor explained that his body was trying to keep up with the metabolism that it had developed so quickly. Whatever the case, Guido was hungry and so he ate very well. Half an hour later the nurse returned, but this time she was accompanied by a very sleek individual.

Mr. Kelly was average of height with short legs, a large hooked nose, and slick black hair. He donned casual clothing of a black coat, white shirt, blue jeans, and black shoes, as shiny as a beetle's back. Mr. Kelly though was not what truly caught Guido's eye, but it was the girl who followed him into the room.

Guido had never seen her before but she wore the bright white and red striped outfit of her namesake. She was a Candy Striper at the hospital. Waves of honey blonde hair were pulled back into little pigtails at the base of her neck. Clutched to her chest, held between tense arms, were several books. She shot Guido a short look, her eyes going slightly wide. The nurse showed the two guests in, took the leftovers of breakfast, and left quietly.

"Hey Guido." Mr. Kelly said in a direct manner, removing his hands from his pockets.

"Good morning Mr. Kelly."

"This," Kelly continued mechanically, "is Mary Bradley. She'll be reading to you while you're here." He indicated the shy little Candy Striper. Mary nodded a silent greeting and returned to tucking her chin into her chest.

"Alright kid," Mr. Kelly said, "lets get started, I ain't got all day."

Their session went fairly well for a first time ordeal. Guido missed several questions to do with wind trajectory and some such nonsense during their science studies. However, this could be contributed by his distraction. With the sun streaming in from the window, lighting the room goldenly, Mary looked every bit an angel. The oblique columns of light caught the highlights of her honeyed hair, and when she looked up to catch a glimpse her green eyes came alight. Even her cheeks turned rosy pink when Guido returned her modest smile with one of his own awkward grins.

"Should I just let you two make moon eyes at each other all day?" An very irritated Mr. Kelly growled while snapping the spelling and grammar text book closed. "Y'know, Carosella, your mommy and daddy ain't going to be too happy if they find out their little boy's flirting instead of paying attention. Speaking of paying, these classes ain't cheap, so I think it's ab—" The black haired man looked helplessly from one adolescent to the to the other, then finally he turned his face to the ceiling and uttered an incoherent curse beneath his breath. "Alright, fine . . . you guys can have this time to get to know each other, but I'm going to be outside and if I see anything suspicious . . ."

"Go on, Mr. Kelly. Guido and I can handle things . . ."

"That's what I'm afraid of . . ."

"Oh, go get some coffee," she answered in an almost bashful way, but she was beaming. Then, Mr. Kelly gave her a sideways glance and his dark eyes swept over Guido once more before he left the room, shutting the door with a trite sigh. After he'd gone Mary looked up to Guido but then her eyes shot away again; and he was too timid to say much to her either. Finally, though, she broke the silence with a little cough to clear her throat.

"Uhm, Guido . . . I'm supposed to be reading to you . . ."

"Uh, right, yeah . . ." Guido looked down at her, realizing suddenly how tiny she was, but at the same time understanding that he must be massive. Something told him that it was his new size that intimidated her more than anything.

"Where do you go to school?" He asked gingerly and Mary gazed up at him, as though seeing him for the first time.

"Oh, I'm . . . uhm . . . I'm home schooled."

"Yeah? I heard home schooling can be really . . .'

"Boring?" She finished with a small smile and Guido nodded in reply. Mary seemed to warm to him the moment he began talking, like there was something suddenly special about him. Perhaps showing her that he was indeed human had softened her reserve a bit. Then, she was scooting closer and setting her books aside.

"I heard about what happened to you . . ." Mary's voice was quieter now, like she was speaking to a sleeping child. "My mother told me you're a . . . a mutant. One of those . . ."

"Freaks . . ." Guido scoffed under his breath and Mary shook her head so hard that her pigtails wriggled.

"No! You're just different's all. I didn't mean to offend you, Guido."

"Aw, Mary, you didn't. I was just . . . y'know, this is all really new."

"Yeah, I can't imagine . . ." her hand traveled across the blankets and rested upon one of his thick fingers, and there she clutched to it with a pensive expression.

"It's still hard for me to think about," he answered truthfully, "my parents think it's just a hormone problem . . ." Mary's laugh was more compulsive than mocking and to be perfectly honest Guido couldn't blame her. Anyone would laugh at a theory that far fetched. Hormones? It would take more than a chemical imbalance to do these things to Guido. Perhaps a mega-dose of steroids would have done it, but he seriously doubted it.

**_Friday, October 9, 1967_**

_Mary and I just finished reading, "Stewart Little", it was a great book. I'm glad it had a happy ending, and Mar sure seemed to like it. She told me it was one of her favorites, but next week we're reading something called, "The Catcher and the __Rye__". Mr. Kelly tells me it's an advanced book, but I'm pretty smart so it's right on my level. I'm not as worried about my studies as I am about my condition. On Tuesday, the doctors did some weight tests where they hit me with some heavy stuff. My arms are swollen from all the impacts, my chest too. They're trying to figure out why I'm absorbing the impact like that. I hope they find out what's up._

**_Sunday, October 11, 1967_**

Guido sat cross legged on the two beds that had been pushed together for him. It was, perhaps, not the most comfortable arrangement but nevertheless the twin beds provided sufficient support for his bulk. The boy was pouring over textbooks, studying over the grammar for what seemed to be the thousandth time. No matter how many times he read the text the lesson didn't seem to sink in. It could have been that he continued to think about Charlie. Why had refused to allow Guido to talk to him? Certainly he knew how sorry Guido was, certainly he could be forgiven. Perhaps, though, whatever he'd done to Charlie was inexcusable. Blinded by pain and fear Guido had lashed out blindly, trying desperately to fling any part of himself back into the world in which he belonged. Did he belong in that world, though? With normal people like Mary . . . like Charlie and Aunt Lo. He felt sure that at one time he had belonged there, however excluded he had felt from those around him. Was it some divine plan? He'd grown up in the elaborate structure of Catholicism where everything had a purpose. So did what was happening to him have a purpose, or was he just trying to rationalize?

A moment passed where everything seemed to freeze and then the door opened and Guido looked up to see Mary framed in the doorway. She looked a little wet and at her side she held a drenched umbrella. In all of his thinking he hadn't notice the deluge that had begun outside. It pounded down on the window panes while thunder roared in the distance, but all of that seemed far away. Mary walked across the room, leaning her umbrella in the corner. Then she took a seat on the bed and smiled up at him, gently. He noticed she was not wearing her Candy Striper uniform, and instead donned a brown turtleneck sweater and blue jeans.

"Hey Mary, I was just—"

"Studying? I see that." She giggled unnecessarily, seeming nervous almost.

"Yeah . . . what's the matter?"

"Oh Guido!" She threw herself at him and for an instant Guido could not say anything. He put one hand on her back, very confused about her sudden outburst.

"What's the matter?" He repeated, half dazed but mostly puzzled.

"I-I've j-just heard . . ." she whimpered pathetically, "t-they're going to m-move you."

"Move me?" His heart sank into his stomach where it summoned a very angry protest of knots. "You mean . . . you don't . . . to a different hospital?"

"Y-yes . . ." Mary stammered quietly as she sobbed wetly into his chest. They'd only known each other for two weeks or so, but they'd become so close it seemed like a lifetime. Finally, though, Marry stabilized her emotions and rose carefully away, wiping tears from her streaked face.

"W-well . . . when're they doing it?"

"Two or less weeks, I think . . ." her voice was flat and although she'd stopped her tears, Mary hiccupped quietly into one hand. Guido fell quiet, meanwhile the air felt very much as though they were attending a very solemn funeral. His eyes searched his books a moment and then, slowly, he spoke.

"Do you think . . . I mean . . . where are they going to move me?"

"I don't know," she answered, sounding gloomy once more, and outside a gentle rumble of thunder punctuated the scene. Guido's face fell and he knew he must be a little pale.

"Maybe they won't move me very far . . . you'll be able to visit."

"N-no . . ." Mary shuddered, "my parents are going to put me through school at the end of this semester . . . it isn't so far away. I'm so scared . . ."

"Don't be. School's actually a lot more fun that you might think. Most people don't get hit by buses."

"That's **_not _**why I'm scared, Guido, and you know it!" She turned to him, her face was wild. The frizzy strands of her damp hair and wide, puffy eyes made her look mildly deranged. Mary needn't say any more, Guido knew precisely why she was scared. He too was scared for the exact reason. Neither wanted to lose the other, it would hurt so bad that these last few weeks would seem like nothing at all. Mary was probably the best friend he'd ever had, and Guido was convinced if she went he'd never have friends again.

"Well . . . how're your studies coming?"

"Uhm . . . they're . . . Mary . . ." She looked into his face straight away; the green eyes were no long wide, on the contrary, they were quite heavy. The pout on her little lips made the look absolutely pitiable. In that moment she was more fragile than Guido had ever seen her, and it both scared and endeared him at the same moment.

"You'll do great at school." He said lamely and for a moment she looked as though tears were on the verge of bubbling up again. She did not cry though.

"Guido . . . I love you."

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch but he did not smile and then Mary looked absolutely mortified. Her cheeks went strawberry red, as though she'd just done something extremely awkward, and perhaps she had. Guido had never actually been told he was loved by a girl, and Aunt Lo didn't count. He hadn't known how to react and suddenly he felt as though he'd offended her with his surprise.

"Mar . . . I didn't—"

"No, it's okay. It's my fault, I shouldn't have said that."

"What? No! That's not what I meant. I mean . . . I've never had someone say that . . . not like the way you said it." His expressions softened and her mirrored them. A tight little smile spread across her face then it transformed suddenly into the warm beam he'd come to know so well.

"Well . . . that's a shame . . ." Mary lowered her gaze so that she looked to be transfixed on something very interesting, but completely invisible, on the floor. "I actually . . ." she began breathlessly, but stopped a moment before continuing. "I actually came by to . . . ask if you'd like me to talk to Charlie for you." When Guido looked puzzled she continued. "You know, the Ronalds boy? I thought . . . maybe if he wouldn't talk to you . . . I could . . . maybe I could take him something from you . . . like, a letter . . . or . . . well . . . it's a stupid idea . . . sorry." She got up as though to leave.

"No, Mary, wait!" Guido started and he moved to get up, the beds creaking ominously beneath him. "That's a great idea. Yeah . . . maybe he'd listen to you. You're awfully pretty."

Mary's cheeks went that bright, strawberry shade again. She tucked a strand of loose blonde hair behind one ear and paused a moment, chuckling a bit.

"Guido . . . you're so sweet. Thank you . . . write your letter . . . I'll see you tomorrow."

_Sunday, October 11, 1967_

_ Dear Charlie,_

_  
I know you don't want to talk to me, but could you at least read this letter? I want you to know I'm sorry about what happened. I don't understand anymore than anyone else what's wrong with me. I've heard little pieces of rumors from nurses and other patients about what I did to you. If only you knew how horrible I feel. You were really the only person who talked to me at school. That means a lot to me. Most other people thought I was a freak, and I guess I am now. I don't remember much about what happened after the bus hit me. Everything was really blurry when my glasses were knocked off, I could barely see. The pain was incredible so really, I want you to know that I didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident and if there's anything I can do to make you better, to make it all right, I want to know._

_Your__ Friend,_

_  
Guido Carosella_

**_Tuesday, October 13, 1967_**

Lessons were particularly dismal on Monday, but afterwards, Guido gave Mary the letter for Charlie. She politely stowed it in her pack and told him she'd deliver it on her way out of the hospital. Not, on Tuesday, he waited with anxiety for she and Mr. Kelly to enter, per usual, as a duo laden with books and lessons. However, half past ten o'clock foretold something afoot and Guido would have been determined to find out what, if he was still small enough to sneak about unnoticed. No luck in that happening anytime soon. So he waited, and waited, and waited then, at around one in the afternoon, while he was reading "_Alfred Hitchcock's: A Month of Mystery_", the door opened and Mary came in, clad in her Candy Striper uniform but wearing a completely distraught expression.

"Where've you been?" Guido asked, sounding a little indignant. "I've been waiting for hours, but you never showed up." Then, suddenly, the absence of Mr. Kelly dawned on him, but before he could ask about it, Mary closed the door and began talking in a whisper.

"Mr. Kelly had a family emergency . . ."

"What about you?"

"I was . . ." she hesitated for a moment in which she sucked on her bottom lip. "I was . . . visiting Charlie."

Guido's heart skipped a beat and his heart soared into his throat. "Yeah? What'd he say?"

"Well . . . he didn't say much . . ." Mary fell stony silent again, he face darkening somewhat. Guido caught her tentative gaze when she chanced a look up.

"What _did _he say, Mar?"

"I-he . . . Guido . . . he hates you." Her face contorted with an awful expression that Guido was sure had appeared in his own. He felt his heart plummet suddenly into the pit of its stomach where it summoned up its usual tangle of uncomfortable knots.

"He read the letter, though," she answered feebly, "and I think he understood . . . but . . . he says that he doesn't want anything to do with you . . ." Mary faltered for a moment while she fumbled with her apron. "He said . . . he didn't like your _kind_."

"My _kind_?" Guido asked in a perplexed manner, as though the words were a foreign language. "What does he mean, _'my kind'_?"

"I'd suppose he means . . . that you're a . . . a mutant."

"They don't know that!" Guido yelled, feeling his heart pound in his knotted stomach. Suddenly he felt sick and wretched, like he wanted to throw up. "No body knows what's wrong with me! He can't just—"

"Guido!" Mary snapped. "What else could possibly be wrong with you? Maybe you were meant to be like this . . ." He could see it in her eyes that she was feeling something similar to Charlie. Did Mary hate him for what he was? Were her words not but two days ago a lie?

"Get out of my room . . ." Guido snapped, roughly.

"Guido . . . I didn't mean to . . ."

His face fell, his heart felt as though it had disappeared completely. Now he felt more cold and alone than he had been in a long time. He drew his mouth tightly, then relaxed. "No . . . it's okay Mary. I'm sorry too . . ."

She came over and sat down, looking slightly rumpled. They stayed that way for a while, he, Guido, poised on the bed, half lying half sitting and Mary looking positively mouse like in her quietness. When she did finally speak, it was to bade Guido farewell. Then she was gone and the room felt so empty that Guido felt omitted from the place.

_And those years that occurred between Guido's move from the hospital in Rhineback to others was lost in the pages of his diaries. Perhaps he simply lost track of the time or perhaps he decided the time was not worth the write. We do know, however, that during those lonesome years in hospital after hospital, his parents passed away in a bizarre accident when a satellite fell onto their house. Guido settled, out of court, for a massive sum of money. This all occurred while he was still a minor, though, because eventually he lived with his Aunt Lois and Uncle Lou. This was possibly after the doctors confirmed suspicions that Guido was, in fact, a mutant. Guido did not record his years as the ward_ _his relatives very accurately, so they have not been included here. Sometime during his late twenties he left to make his way in the world. However, he squandered much of his fortune. In order to obtain more money to support his impulsive lifestyle, Guido picked up a job as Lila Cheney's body guard.  
_

_------------------------------------------------------------------------_


End file.
